Snape Super Sleuth A Starring Snape story
by aims80
Summary: When Muggle favourite & 3/4 wizard origin Elton John is murdered, the Minister of Magic decides it could be a magical death, & assigns 2 of his own to work the case, Severus Snape & Hermoine Granger. Can they find the killer & not kill each other?
1. Prologue

_Authors Note: This chapter has just been redone as I wasn't happy with the first version. To the reviewer who said that it did not really sound like Snape there is a reason for that, but, obviously, I can't reveal it just yet. Also it is a bit of a tongue in cheek thing with Snape's Logs which will only make up a part of some of the chapters (i.e. once a day in novel-time)._

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**STARRING SEVERUS SNAPE:**

**SEVERUS SNAPE, SUPER SLEUTH.**

_Our favourite potions master is a man with a past, and that past makes him the perfect man for a new job: working out who killed one of the magical world's most beloved entertainers, Sir Elton John. When the muggle police come up empty the Ministry of Magic realizes that sending a muggle to do a wizards job is a bad idea. And, with "Hogwarts" on school holidays Snape has plenty of time on his hands…_

**PROLOGUE:**

**Snape's Log. Day 1 of investigation.**

Someone kill me. Now.

It's school holidays for Merlin's sake. I should be doing _anything _other than this. I could be sitting on the beach, working on my tan, watching hot Muggle women in bikinis subtly checking me out and thinking 'God, he's even hotter in person than up on the big screen' and asking me to sign their chests with a magic marker. Or surfing the totally wickedly rad mad waves down in Oz. Maybe cleaning up at all the casinos in Las Vegas, both slot machine and card games, and then sticking hundred dollar bills in the bras and undys of hot strippers and having to turn down all those same strippers who wanted to come back to my hotel room and keep on partying…

Oh, all right. I'll be honest: I should be making the most of the few precious weeks of no snotty-nosed, bratty children at Hogwarts and working on my novel [Severus Snape- A man of the people] or editing and submitting articles to the various academic journals I subscribe to. Fact of the matter is I can't stand the sun and I hate the way sand gets in every orifice and walking on it hurts my calves and ankles, and Muggles- female and male- make me want to pull out my wand and curse myself to some kind of parallel dimension where they don't exist. And whoever thought up the whole surfing thing was a sadistic git with way too much time on their hands because, seriously, why would anyone want to stand up on a piece of wood or fiberglass and throw themselves into waves bigger than a house? I might be able to win a fortune at gambling because I'd use magic to win, not just my own (not inconsiderable) talents. And, while in all these scenarios women would be throwing themselves at my feet, that can just happen any day I decide to walk down a street in a bigger town or city than Hogsmeade and turn on my charms. Obviously.

I think it's highly possible that I am one of the only beings in the wizarding world who wasn't all that fond of Sir Elton John. I didn't feel secretly superior about being one of the minority who knew that his knighthood wasn't because he was a great singer and songwriter, but rather, that all his success was due more to his being a wizard, than anything else. All that money, being able to get away with whatever he wanted, and those fans…well if he were a Muggle rather than a wizard he probably wouldn't have sold a single album, let alone gotten any kind of record deal in the first place. Nor did I think he was any more talented than a million other wannabees. So when the world awoke to headlines on Sunday morning of **"Super Star stabbed"** and **"The world has lost a superstar"** and, my personal favourite **"Candle in the wind deliberately blown out"** and there was mass hysteria I just shrugged. Another dead person in the current circumstances hardly seemed newsworthy. Although the Muggle world is completely oblivious of the war that is just on our doorsteps with the Dark Lord rising and deaths becoming more common than Harry Potter fan fics, so I suppose it _is_ possible that to them it's a big-ticket news item.

By the way Sir Elton John is not the only famous person who is secretly part or full witch or wizard. Hasn't anyone wondered how come David Beckham's foot has it's own fan following? How come the British royal family can have so many screw-ups- Prince Phillip's mouth, Harry's Nazi costume, Harry's drinking, Harry's partying, Harry in general, Prince Charles having a long-term affair with a woman who looks a bit like a horse, etc- and yet _still_ be considered relevant not just by those in the UK, but also countries like Australia and Canada? Or why Madonna, who cannot act to save her life and who thinks gyrating around, half-naked, to stupid lyrics like "erotic, erotic, put your hands all over my body" and be considered a singer of note? The list could go on forever and it would totally blow the mind of any Muggle out there, believe you me.

Whatever the case my dislike for Elton John makes this whole situation seem just that _bit_ more absurd…

It has been three days since Elton John was found dead in his mansion by his housekeeper. Three days since the police were called in when it was obvious that the man had been stabbed and not died of natural causes. Two days since an autopsy showed that he'd been stabbed almost fifteen times, beaten after death, injected with incredibly large doses of [Muggle drugs] heroin, cocaine and ice. One day since the Muggle police declared themselves (not publicly) baffled by the whole thing. Twelve hours since the Ministry of Magic decided that it was possible that the death of this hero might have been less human brutality and more magical mayhem. And only three hours since I was interrupted by a super-special Eagle bearing mail for me (that is how you know the mail is of vital importance, when it arrives via Eagle or Hawk) from the Minister himself, requesting my presence in London post-haste to begin work on the murder investigation.

But why, of all the wizards and witches in England, me, Severus Snape? The answer is simple. The Minister put the names of 200 of the most intelligent, out-of-the-box thinking, multi-skilled, supremely talented, easiest to blend in, most likely to get along with Muggles, and most likely to be able to close the case of the dead singer into a hat and then pulled out two, one man, one woman. I don't know who the woman is yet. But I am that man.

If it wasn't such a pain in the butt situation I might actually be _flattered_ to be included in those 200 names. It shows how high an esteem I am held in by the big names of this fair country doesn't it? And, as all the Muggle awards (including a little gold statue that is called Oscar) have proven everyone just loves me. And "William the wizard", the bane of my existence, the film that changed me from potions teacher- although clearly far better suited to a position as the defence against the dark arts teacher- to household name, might be to blame for this predicament. If I hadn't been forced into the project, and then blackmailed into the "William the wizard" mini-series recently, it is possible that I wouldn't have been up there on the list. Yes the intelligence, skills, talents, amazing abilities, excellent temperament and social skills, etcetera are patently obvious on my CV, but getting along with Muggles was hardly my strong suit. Until I showed remarkable restraint in not cursing every single one involved in the insane project that is. So once more I blame my portrayal of award-winning "William" for pretty much everything going wrong in my life at this time…

Now there are only a few questions I have:

Will we be in charge of the Muggles in this investigation?

Will we have to work with the Muggle's so-called experts and detectives?

Can I curse anyone who refuses to work with me and give me the right answers or is deliberately obstructive or lying?

Can the Ministry keep my involvement secret so as to not allow the Muggle newspapers and television news shows to focus more on me than the dead man? (Which, really, is quite understandable given my fame.)

How much am I going to get paid for giving up my valuable spare time? Will they compensate me when my editor gets angry at me for not putting up my chapters at the astonishing rate I'm currently going at and possibly takes some of my advance money off me? And will they also compensate me for the short-course in poetry I am taking over the summer as well as the karate lessons I have just begun?

And, this is the big one, can I carry a gun? And can I shoot anyone who annoys me?

I suppose I will know those answers shortly as I am about to apparate to the Ministry building. Well, nearby, specifically but I will then take the phone box entrance.

Oh: let me just practice this: "over and out", "breaker, breaker, breaker", "code 67/33/bh3 at my last", "backup required for Muggle shot by me, Severus Snape, in an official capacity."

Yep, still got it. No wonder "William" was so phenomenally successful and popular.

So, for now, it's Snape out.


	2. The name is Snape, Severus Snape

**ONE:**

"**The name is Snape, Severus Snape…"**

**Ministry of Magic headquarters. Wednesday, March 31****st****, 2010. 16:00 hours.**

**S**everus Snape stared at the unfortunately familiar young witch who was already sitting in the small room when he was ushered in by some Ministry of Magic employee. She was sitting, in a pair of jeans and a fitted white shirt with emerald green stripes, her legs crossed primly, staring out the window to Muggle London like she was seeing something different than the drab concrete jungle. Hearing Snape's entrance she looked up and, when she saw who the newcomer was, her eyes widened perceptibly and her mouth opened with surprise. Just for a moment before she recovered herself and closed her mouth with a snap. Whomever she'd expected to see, it most certainly wasn't him.

"Severus." She said coolly.

"Granger." Snape returned, his voice artic cold, making her own tone seem more like Caribbean waters in winter. He walked to the point in the room furthest from its other occupant and took a seat. He wanted to ask her what she was doing there, although he had a pretty horrible feeling he knew that answer, but he didn't want to be the one to converse first. So instead he made an exaggerated show of inspecting his robes.

Hermione held out for almost five minutes. "Professor Snape…erm, what exactly are you doing here?" She inquired, her eyes darting quickly and briefly to his face, before going back to the scenery outside the floor to ceiling window.

"I had an Eagle." Snape replied rather grandly. That was pretty special.

"I had a Hawk." Hermione countered.

Snape glowered and inspected her face carefully. She was Muggle born so perhaps she didn't know that only a Hawk trumped an Eagle in the delivery of the usually owl mail. And, if that were so, she wasn't playing a game of one-upmanship.

"You're the wizard on this case then." Hermione said.

Snape nodded. "And you're the witch?" He asked, a little hope that the answer would be no.

"Not exactly. I don't have a high school magical pass quite yet so, legally, I can't be considered an adult witch just yet. There'll be someone else who will be working the case with you. I'm just…it's kind of a consulting role. But no doubt Minster Fudge will explain it all to you shortly." Hermione answered.

Snape felt a little glimmer of light in the dark. Working with Granger- who even he had to admit, albeit privately, was probably the smartest student Hogwarts had had, at least since his own schoolboy days- was probably the second worst outcome in this situation. She would only be surpassed by working with Harry Potter. Granted all the students, and pretty much all the staff, at "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" made Snape's dislike list, but some were worse than others.

"I'll still be working with you though." Hermione reiterated.

Snape thought she was trying to put a dampener on his spirit by letting him know he'd be seeing more of her during these school holidays than was bearable. So he refused to let her get to him. He affected a lofty, above it all air while he waited for the Minister.

Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, entered the room almost ten minutes later. When Snape was seriously considering jumping through the window and taking his chances on the three story drop. "Miss Granger, Mr. Snape." He said, nodding a greeting to each in turn. Then he frowned. "Your partner is not yet here, Severus?"

"Clearly not." Snape responded snappily.

Fudge didn't seem perturbed. "I'd invite you up to my office but I've got a hush-hush visitor up there at the moment. You no doubt know that many of your fellow witches and wizards know that there is going to be our own investigation into our beloved Elton John's horrific murder, at least those who were out into the hat, but we want to keep the lucky two detectives, and their resources like Miss Granger here, top secret. We don't want any chance of corruption or secrets that you might uncover getting out, and we will want to control the flood of information released through "The Daily Prophet", nor do we want to put any of you in danger from the killer or killers or other persons." He told them. He pulled up a chair midway between Snape and Hermione. "And now we wait. I won't tell you what is going to happen until our other colleague arrives otherwise I will just be repeating it all anyway."

While the trio waited for the other guest to arrive Fudge attempted to make small talk. Did they think the Chudley Cannons would have any chances at winning the Quidditch cup that season? Which was their favourite Elton John song? What did they think about the upcoming muggle governmental election? What did they think of U.S President Barrack Obama's health bill he was trying to get through? (Snape's answers: not a dragon's breath in hell, hated them all, one muggle was as bad as another, regardless of what country they worked in and what side of the political fence they fell on.)

Finally, almost twenty minutes later, the door opened and a Ministry employee escorted another person into the room and Snape felt the second jolt of shock he'd had in a short period of time. The woman was tall, with olive skin, wavy brown hair, and green eyes and was wearing a pair of fitted black slacks, a light blue shirt, and a black jacket which was probably the top counterpart of her suit pants. A silver necklace with a white-gold and diamond heart pendant hung over her chest and silver hoops dangled from her ears. The newcomer was Lalita Richards; founder of "The Sevettes" a fan club dedicated to all things Severus Snape after the movie of "William the Wizard" was released two years back. She and Snape had had a bit of a romance thing going on but it had never fully gotten off the ground. Snape was a bit freaked out at her organising a fan club for him, although she no longer was affiliated with the group and, last he'd heard, Marilyn from Ireland had taken over as president. But also there were his commitments with "Hogwarts" and her own professional life. Apart from the group Lalita had been more than just a pretty face- she was also an intelligence officer for the Ministry of Magic. And this was the first time Snape and Lalita had seen each other in quite awhile.

Snape was pleased to see that Lalita looked a bit taken aback by his presence too. Good, he didn't want to be the only one on the back foot here. "Minister, please excuse my tardiness. We've ah…had a few issues…" She glanced towards Hermione, clearly reluctant to elaborate on her position. Not many people knew of the department she worked in or its mandate.

Fudge waved a hand to indicate she could speak freely, or relatively freely.

"There's a new association going around, the British Users of Wiccan, or BUW. They've got a pretty extensive website and on the forums there we've discovered a few threads that are giving us cause for concern regarding a magical world that most people don't know exists. There was one post which suggested that there weren't just witches and wizards but also a whole host of other magical beings." Lalita explained as she took a seat near Snape. "We're monitoring it all at the moment and will give daily briefings until we have to move on it."

Fudge nodded. "Fine, thank you Ms. Richards."

Lalita looked at Snape. "I hear you're going to be filming a reality show shortly." She said by way of greeting.

Snape flinched. "I was kind of hoping that the powers that be would forget about it." He said, obviously in rebuke considering one of those powers was sitting by them.

Lalita grimaced. "Sorry. Me and my big mouth." She looked down at her hands, picking at the bright red nail polish on her left thumb, and then said, affecting an off-hand air, "I also heard it might be some kind of a dating show…"

"While doubtless this reality show, dating or non, is important I think perhaps the reason you three are here is probably of slightly more import." Fudge said by way of censure.

"I'm sorry Minister." Lalita said hastily. Then she smiled in the direction of the younger witch who, Snape now realised, was looking a bit uncomfortable. "Sorry, it was rude of me not to introduce myself. I'm Lalita Richards. And you are…?"

"Hermione Granger." Hermione answered, in a quiet voice.

Lalita raised an eyebrow as she turned her eyes towards the Minister. "Pardon me for bringing this up Minister, but I was under the impression I would be working with a wizard on this, not another witch, let alone an underage witch who does not yet have a magical school pass." She said smoothly.

'_Good question.'_ Snape thought.

"You and Professor Snape here will be working this investigation. Miss Granger will be your support. You might not know this but she has got the highest grades at "Hogwarts" for a witch in over 300 years and if she wanted she could have been accelerated to finish her education two years ago. However she chose to remain with the classmates of her own age instead. She is also a Muggle born witch which means she knows a lot not just about the way the muggle world works but also about muggle inventions and technology which will no doubt prove invaluable to you two detectives in solving this horrible, horrible crime." Fudge intoned.

"So she won't be out in the field with us?" Lalita asked.

"She'll be right here in this room with a laptop and a mobile phone which will be linked to both Severus's and your own mobiles, and access to almost everything you might require of her." Fudge clarified.

"I don't have a mobile phone. I don't have a phone, full stop." Snape put in.

Fudge smiled and reached into the hidden pocket in his jacket and pulled out three, little, flip-phones which he distributed. "Speed dials are 1 for Snape, 2 for Richards, 3 for Granger." He told them.

Snape took the small object with distaste. It was a shiny silver and black thing and on the back he noticed what looked a bit like some kind of camera lens. He put it inside his robes, and, at the same time, realised that neither witch wore her robes and it was just himself and the Minister who did.

"And your laptop should be here shortly Miss Granger. It's as high powered as humanely possible…actually no; it's as high powered as _magically_ possible if you get my drift…" He winked and tapped his nose to ensure they did, in fact, catch his drift.

"Okay so we go out there and catch the killer of poor Sir Elton John. And we use Hermione here for some kind of support-" Lalita began.

"Like name searches and records that the muggle police force has, general information on people you come across during the case, forensic and evidence back-up checks that the muggle police force will find and pass on, that sort of thing. She can also run surveillance ops if needed." Fudge interrupted.

How Granger, a teen witch, could have the know-how to do this, Snape didn't know.

"Now the muggle police force has been on this investigation for three days now so that puts us a little below the magic 8 ball here. They've been instructed to make available to you all evidence, physical and otherwise, and bring you totally up to speed on where things are going. They have also been instructed to defer to you two and ensure you are given full co-operation as temporary members of the English police force. You can work with them as much, or as little, as you see fit but I should point out that not using them simply because, for example, you greatly dislike muggles, would be a waste of resources." Fudge continued to explain.

"Who instructed them?" Hermione asked.

Fudge looked deliberately vague. "Hmm? Oh the muggle government, someone high up."

"And the detectives working the case are just okay with that? Handing their case over to two people who are not law enforcement officials and, so far as they know, one is a movie star slash chemistry teacher at a high school, and the other a nobody?" Lalita asked.

"They've been ordered." Fudge looked like that was end of the story.

"And how many of them do we work with?" Lalita questioned.

"There is a team of four detectives on the homicide case. Normally it would be two but because of the high profile they've doubled their resources but if they get nothing in a few days time they might put together some kind of taskforce to crack the case." Fudge answered. "Plus there is their support staff you- and they- might still use, like their forensic experts or technology experts. And maybe other detectives not on active cases."

"I don't mean to be rude Minister but I have to ask the obvious question: how do you expect Severus and myself, two people who have no experience with crimes beyond a liking for the CSI and Law and Order franchises, to solve the murder of Elton John?" Lalita asked.

Snape nodded his agreement with the question. It didn't really make much sense, but then pretty much everything about this situation made little or no sense to him.

Fudge actually had the gall to look annoyed and gave the three other members of the room a look that was remarkably similar to one Snape himself gave students in his potions class on a regular basis, but the irony of that was lost on him. "Well I don't expect you to solve the case, that is a job for the real detectives. But there might be questions that come up and need asking and are of a magical bent, or evidence that comes up and is related to magic. So you see the muggle detectives can't ask the right questions in some cases and with Sir Elton John being a wizard and muggle hero we need to know whether the killer or killers were wizard, witch or magical being." He told them.

There was a knock on the door and when Fudge called "enter" two young men came in. One carried a laptop and a few other boxes of what Snape could only assume were related to the computer or muggle technology of some kind. He was glad he did not have to interact with that confusing and stupid muggle invention: the personal computer. He knew that Headmaster of "Hogwarts" Albus Dumbledore had become computer literate recently and was working on a website for the school, although it would only be available to those in the magical community. Snape had heard Dumbledore having animated discussions about it with Professor Minerva McGonagall, the transfiguration teacher, who said policing the internet was virtually impossible so making a site only available to those in the know could prove difficult. Snape also knew that Dumbledore was a big fan of something he called social networking, a site called Face something or other too. That was how Snape had learnt that an imposter, probably a muggle by the look of the posts and information on this website, had made an account for one "Severus Snape" who had, at last count, over 20,000 friends. Snape had tasked someone at the school with finding this imposter so he could pay him a little visit and ask him- or her- to kindly refrain from pretending to be him. Or, if necessary, he was prepared to work a little spell, perhaps curse the person. Yes, he knew the Ministry rules about magic towards muggles, but sometimes you had to do, what you had to do. And frankly in these days a little spell against a muggle who had lied about who he was hardly seemed of consequence.

The other man carried a couple of manilla folders and had a set of car-keys dangling from his belt.

"Ah, excellent, excellent. Masters you can set up the equipment and have a little tutorial with Miss Granger here. And Evan if you would please hand the folders to Lalita and Severus and then, you two, may go with Evan here. He'll be your driver." Fudge instructed.

"Driver?" Snape repeated.

Fudge gave him the look one might give to a particularly slow child. "Yes, Evan will be taking you everywhere you need to go during the course of the investigation. You can hardly apparate and disapperate when you're working with the muggle police and civilians during this case, can you?" He asked.

Snape did not bother to reply to that.

"Any last rules Minister?" Lalita asked.

Fudge thought about that for a moment and then spread his hands. "I hope everything should be explained in your case files there. You can read them on route to the police headquarters. Also I'm asking you to fill in a log each day of the investigation-"

"We've got homework?" Snape interrupted in disbelief. This just kept getting better and better. Throw in someone like Potter and his day would just be beyond perfect.

Fudge gave him a dirty look; as Minister of Magic he wasn't used to anyone interrupting or talking over him. "You will fill in a log each day of the investigation which will be sent to me via owl-mail, actually no, via Hawk mail at the close of the day. You will also forward me copies of any statements, forensic reports, et cetera that you get, via Hawk mail. My own personal Hawk will be available for your use twenty four/seven in case you have any urgent matters to address with me or questions that require speedy responses. Now, if that is all, I have a lot of important work to be getting back to. What with running the magical part of this entire country and all…"

With a few more exchanges Snape, Lalita and Evan left the room in one direction, and Fudge in the other, leaving Hermione and Masters in the room. Evan lead the two down to the garage level of the Ministry- something Snape had not known existed- and to a car. It was a BMW SUV and, when he got into the back, Snape saw it had been modified magically. It was a lot roomier than it looked from the outside. There were two desks, with leather ergonomic desk chairs behind, then two comfy couch armchairs with the buttons on the side you press to make the foot-rest pop out, a toilet stall, and a small kitchenette stocked with coffee, tea, hot chocolate, sugar, milk, biscuits, a basket of muffins, a bowl of fruit and a small fridge. There was a hole in the wall behind the kitchen and, when Snape stepped closer to investigate, he got a shock when a man's head popped through the hole and said "What can I get you gov?"

"Gov?" Snape repeated weakly.

"Short for Governor I believe. I'm a big fan of "The Bill." Auditioned for a role on it a few times but they didn't want a dwarf. Especially not one with these." And here he lifted the hair from the side of his head to reveal large, pointy ears. He was at least partially fairy. "Anyway, I'm your cook. Nothing too small, too large, too easy, too difficult."

"Erm…I'm not that hungry right now." Snape told the man.

He shrugged. "Well you know where I'll be if you need anything. By the way my names Tolliver. Ha. Ha. My Mam was a comedian." He said.

"Not a very good one." Snape muttered but Tolliver had already disappeared back into the hole.

"Sit back and relax. Next stop the cop shop. Always wanted to say that. I like "The Bill" too." Evans' voice boomed through the car making Snape start slightly. He chose one of the armchairs and, after a brief hesitation, Lalita took one of the desks, as the car's engine revved up and Evans put it into gear and started to move.

**Police headquarters. Wednesday March 31****st****, 2010. 16:35 hours.**

**S**nape chose not to read his folder on the car-ride to the police department. He had other, more pressing, things to think about. 1) Whether he should write the chapter about his time as a Death Eater or not in the magical copy of his autobiography and how much information he could give about "Hogwarts" in his non-magical version. 2) Whether he should add a section on the new practice of using snake venoms in potions to his article for "Potions Monthly." 3) Whether there was any chance in hell that they might solve this murder in the next few hours and get to go back to their normal lives. 4) Whether the murder had anything to do with the magical world or this was all an even more colossal waste of time than he had first believed. 4) Whether Lalita had grown any older in the time since they'd last seen each other and, on that line, whether she looked even better than she had then. After all maturity in late thirty-something's often worked to make the woman blossom more. 5) Whether Lalita still had the hots for him.

"Penny for them?" Lalita asked, just as they arrived at their destination. (Which Snape knew because Evan had announced, over some kind of loudspeaker system, "and we have arrived at our destination, police HQ. Thank you for flying Evan air. Even though we're driving. Because cars can't fly. At least not in the muggle world which is where we unfortunately are right now.")

"Have you put on weight? And changed your hair colour slightly? Because from memory there was some grey in there. Not much, just a few strands." Snape asked.

Lalita's eyes widened. "You _so_ did _not_ just ask that, did you? Seriously?" She demanded.

Snape nodded. "I did say that. Are you getting hard of hearing?" He asked, concerned.

Lalita actually growled at him. "Wow. I'd almost forgotten what a git you could be sometimes. You don't say that sort of thing to a woman…even if it might, hypothetically, be possibly somewhat true."

Women. Snape would _never_ understand them. Even if he lived to be as old as Nicholas had done.

"Here, let me get the door for you." Lalita said. She stood up and opened the car door.

"Thank you." Snape said, exiting the vehicle. Her sarcasm was lost on him.

Someone behind reception in the foyer was expecting them. A muggle woman was on duty and when she quickly stood up and smiled Snape saw she had at least three chins. She smiled brightly at them. "Oh my God. You're here. I knew you would be but even so, I'm totally stoked. Can I please have your autograph Severus?" She asked.

Snape looked genuinely confused. "Why?" He asked warily.

"Because you're, like, totally famous and totally hot and I'm so in love with you. Plus all my girlfriends will be dead jealous." She explained.

Lalita smiled at the young muggle woman. "Sure, Severus will be thrilled to do that for you. Got a pen and paper?" She asked.

The woman handed a notebook over and a fountain pen and Snape, bewilderedly, signed his name and handed it back.

"How about a kiss?" The woman asked.

"Don't push your luck." Lalita was quick to say. Any other woman would recongise the jealous tone in her voice, but men would just think her brisk attitude was due to her wanting to get on with things.

The woman shrugged. "Anyway my name's Vera, I'm receptionist here. I've got your visitors passes here which you must wear at all times when in the building. We've also got these temporary ID cards and badges for you both to prove you are on official London Police duties when necessary and when there is no real cops with you. I'll just let Bobby- he's leading the investigation into poor Sir Elton's murder- know you're here and he'll be down to grab you and take you up to the fifth. Just hang tight a mo' for me…"

Snape and Lalita "hung tight" until Bobby, a barrel chested man in his fifties with close-cropped grey hair and a world weary attitude, came down to meet them. He did not look pleased but Snape wasn't surprised. How the Minister had finagled this, and how the top cop had agreed and then passed the orders on to Bobby and the other detectives was anybody's guess. But Snape didn't think the police would be happy to give up their information and step backwards in the case and he thought it highly probable that Bobby and his men would make this difficult every step of the way.

Bobby walked towards Snape and Lalita like a condemned man walking to the gallows or the death chamber. "Got your passes? Good. Come on before the lift goes up without us." He instructed, not actually looking at either of the two newcomers.

In the lift Bobby spoke. "This is not my idea, I don't like it, and I won't pretend to. We all have our bosses and in the police force you do what you're told and don't ask questions. But know this- I will not put any of my team in danger because of you two. If you think you're going to be superheroes, running around with guns and confronting dangerous people, think again. You go to interview or pick someone up, one or two of us goes with you, in the interview room, you will have one of us, and anything requiring force or danger is us, not you. I refuse to let my team be put in danger by cowboys like you two might well be-"

"We're not from the Wild west." Snape muttered.

Bobby stared at him. "Are you joking me?"

Snape shook his head. "No. I'm not really into jokes."

Bobby said a word under his breath that made even Snape raise his eyebrows. "We are the law. You are not. We're the experts. You are not. Got it?" Bobby finished, as the elevator arrived at their floor.

"Got it." Lalita said.

Bobby stared at Snape until he, too, nodded. "Right then. Let's go catch us a killer…"


End file.
